


Stealing a SEAL

by klutzy34



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Ocean's (Movies)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 09:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11529642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzy34/pseuds/klutzy34
Summary: When Steve McGarrett found himself handcuffed to Turk Malloy on a mission gone sideways, he never imagined that the thief would end up playing a bigger role in his life.





	Stealing a SEAL

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mixture of snippets that I posted on Tumblr as combining Ocean's 11 and Hawaii Five-0 is one of my guilty pleasures and created one of my fave crossover ships of Turk Malloy/Steve McGarrett. Since I've been moving stuff over here, I took the chance to put them all together and clean it up a little bit, shift some of the snippets around and add one that never saw the light of day before. As I haven't written anymore in a while, I figured the first one I wrote would make a good wrap up for it!

“You know what I decided?”

“No. I don’t care.”

“Oh no, you’ll care about this. I decided this is all your fault, sweetheart, because I was doing just fine until your Rambo Rampage fueled by an overabundance of testosterone came barging into my china shop and destroyed my profits. That’s what I decided.”

“I still don’t care. Please shut up.”

“Please shut up? _Please shut up?_ We are in a forest in the middle of god knows where and I’m tethered to you. I will not shut up because with my luck, there is no way in hell that I will ever be rescued from you.”

“I can think of a few way to solve that problem. How attached to that hand are you?”

“How attached to my ha - look here, you sick, twisted animal. I need my hand to do my job, ergo you will not be doing whatever it is you planned to do with that...big knife that you pulled out.”

“If you give me a headache, I’m not even going to ask. I’m going to do. Got it?”

“Yessir, Mr. SEAL, _sir._ ”

“You really can’t say one word, can you, Turk? Several every single time.”

“I have a lot of opinions. Currently, you are the focus of several very negative opinions and bottling those opinions up isn’t healthy. It leads the way to snapping and you wouldn’t like me when I’ve snapped.”

“Malloy? If you shut the fuck up, I will buy you a drink. _Please._ ”

\--------

“If I never see you again, Malloy, I’ll die a happy man.”

“Huh. No wonder all you SEALs are lone wolves, sweetheart, with an attitude like that. I thought we worked well together but hey, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”

\--------

“Excuse me?” Turk’s jaw dropped and he rose onto his toes, getting into McGarrett’s face, jabbing a finger into his face so hard that it nearly went up his nose. Steve refused to back down, arms stubbornly crossed, glaring down at him.

“I said,” Steve snarled between clenched teeth, “whose child did you kidnap?” The child in question stared up at him with wide, dark eyes, bottom lip starting to wibble as she picked up on the tension between the two men filling the hotel room. Turk’s fists clenched and unclenched and he stepped back, sinking back onto his heels. He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaled deeply, then released it and held up a hand.

“I would never kidnap a child, you animal,” he replied, his voice low and uneasily calm, “because that is wrong. That, you idiot, is my kid.” As if to reinforce that fact, she got up from where she’d been coloring and scrambled over to him, clinging to his leg as she stared up at Steve.

The expression on Steve’s face quickly went from infuriated to surprised, his mouth dropping open. “You...your kid?”

“Yes, my kid. Grace. This is my little Gracie and you, my friend, owe her an apology. Kidnapped. We nearly get killed while chained together, I help you, you help me, and you still think so little of me that you would assume I could kidnap a child. My moral code is greatly offended,” Turk growled at him, hands waving wildly in the air to accompany the verbal tirade. “Kidnapped. Honestly, McGarrett. Apologize to my kid and get your keister out of here before I let her paint your nails for being such an idiot, huh?” He rest a hand on Grace’s head and glanced down at her. “You okay with that, little Malloy?” he asked, his voice softening.

Steve swallowed hard, taking in how quickly Turk went from loudmouthed thief to doting father. Awkwardly, he got down on his knees. “I am very sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said slowly, unsure how he was even supposed to apologize to a child. What he didn’t expect was for her to suddenly launch into his arms, her’s wrapping tightly around his neck in a hug that made his entire body stiffen up awkwardly. Behind her, he could see Turk grinning widely, enjoying Steve clearly in unknown territory.

He tentatively hugged the girl, then gently wiggled out of her grasp to rise to his feet. “Sorry,” he murmured, face beginning to turn red. As he headed for the door, he turned to face Turk. “Just don’t...do anything shady, like stealing my wallet. Again,” he added, trying to regain his lost ground. With a quick smile to Grace, Steve quickly made his exit, leaving father and daughter staring at the door after it slammed shut.

Then Grace quickly bolted into Turk’s outstretched arms and he picked her up. She wrapped one arm around his neck and then dug into her jumper pocket, producing a wallet and holding it out to him. “Nice job, Monkey,” Turk snorted, taking it from her and sliding it into his pocket. “You like him, huh?” The little girl quickly nodded her head. “That’s good. I think he’s going to be sticking around.”

\------

By the time Steve stumbled out of the tent that housed headquarters, the sun had nearly set behind the hills, bathing the camp in shadows and a pale glow that lit his way as he headed for the last place he'd seen Freddie and his men settling in to grab a few hours of sleep.

The mission planned for the early hours of the morning was now called off, for a reason Steve never expected and wished he'd never had to: the private military company working with them had set the SEAL team up to die, prompting another wave of fearmongering and war rallying that would stuff their pockets even more. It was the only time Steve had ever seen Joe so furious, the usually somewhat stoic commander's expression twisted in rage as he briefed Steve.

"Hey. Pretty boy." The soft statement was followed by a sharp whistle that cut through the fog of Steve's shock and he turned to see a figure emerge from between two tents. It spoke volumes of his distraction as he processed the Ranger BDUs first, the name tag labeling the man as _Williams_ , hair long on top and buzzed short on the sides, not quite regulation. His eyes finally landed on the face, bright blue eyes watching him with concern. "You okay there, Super SEAL? You look like someone just told you apple pie isn't American at all." Turk reached out to gently touch Steve's arm, then slipped a hand under his bicep and tugged him back between the supply tents. "No, seriously, you looked like you've just been slapped thrice and you're not sure why."

Steve swallowed hard. "I'm, uh, not at liberty to say," he said, faintly realizing that the last person he should be telling any of this to was a thief, but Turk had a way of showing up and aside from repeated thefts of his wallet, which only seemed to be a way to get Steve to make contact again, he'd been more honest and forthright than he expected a thief to be. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "I just...without going into it, I expect the opposition to kill us, not people who are supposed to be allies."

There it was. A flicker of understanding on Turk's face, his hands dropping to his side. "Ah, that. Well, you're welcome," he said, shoulders rising and falling in a lazy shrug, leaving Steve to blink.

"You're the anonymous informant?" he demanded.

"Well, part of them. Virgil did the digging, I pieced it together and told him where to look so some schmuck wouldn't tear it apart and disregard the threat." He crossed his arms over his chest, hip jutting out slightly as he took on a defensive expression. "Just because we're thieves does not mean we're going to let innocent people die, thank you very much, and I'll have you know that our targets are people who can afford to lose, usually deserve it, and...well, fuck." Before Steve could protest that wasn't what he meant, Turk took a quick step forward, rising up on the toes of his boots and grabbing the front of Steve's BDUs, dragging him down just enough to plant a kiss on his lips.

It left him breathless and was all too short, hesitant at first before Turk tasted his lips adequately and then suddenly pulled away, stepping back and running a thumb over the corner of his mouth, peering at Steve expectantly in the darkness like he expected him to punch him for it. Instead, Steve blinked owlishly at him, brow furrowing. "So yeah, there's that," Turk added, taking another step back, still eyeing Steve warily. "Yeah."

"Yeah," Steve echoed, taking a step back on his own. "I, uh, have to get back to my men, inform them the mission is off." Another step back. As nice as the kiss was, years of military indoctrination railed against him ducking in for another. He had to get out of there. "By the way, it was brought up that they figured the source was high level CIA, FBI maybe. Quality investigation work. Maybe you should quit the law-breaking game, become a cop."

Turk stared at him for a moment before he bent forward, quiet laughter shaking his body as he rest his hands on his knees. When he straightened up, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I'll think about that. Me, a cop."

Steve frowned. "Might give you a chance to finally make a home somewhere. For Grace's sake," he added, shooting for the low blow. It landed, if the amusement disappearing from Turk's face was anything to go by. "Sorry, not my place. Anyway, thank your brother for me. I owe you guys one." Which he hoped wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

Turning on his heel, Turk turned to head in the opposite direction. "Hey, you saved my ass the first time we met, McGarrett. Now we're just breaking even," he said, spinning around to give him a lazy salute before he disappeared around the corner of the tent. Steve stared at the spot where he'd just been, then closed his eyes and shook his head.

\--------

He blamed flying high on a difficult heist well done for the misunderstanding of the message he received from Steve. _Celebrating New Years in Germany. Here’s the hotel. Come have a drink._ The kiss hadn’t been discussed since that night, months passed, Turk didn’t say a word, figuring he overstepped his boundaries. But receiving that message, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a good sign.

Except when he made sure Grace was tucked in bed and headed down to the lobby, bounce in his step and casually greeting every person between here and there (it was almost a new year, new possibilities, and his German was excellent!), his new possibilities came to a screeching halt and exploded into flames, not unlike the turbo he’d been working with in his garage when he received the call.

Slightly short of average, a dark dress hugging her curves in all the right ways, dark hair pulled back in a fashionable updo, she sat beside Steve, their heads close together as they spoke under the multitude of loud conversations in the bar. There was no mistaking the way they touched, the way his hand slid along the bit of skin exposed by the slit of her dress, so close they could have kissed. He froze there in the doorway, hands stuffed in the back pockets of a pair of worn jeans. Flannel shirt, Converse sneakers, he looked like a schlub next to the well dressed couple.

He had to get out of there. Turk backed up, nearly running over a richy rich couple who snapped a few choice insults at him, determined to get to the door and out, when he felt the hand on his shoulder and whirled to see Steve grinning happily at him. “You made it.”

Turk gave him a smile he didn’t feel in return, drawing on every grifting trick he’d picked up from Saul to fake it being genuine. “Like I’d miss an opportunity where you’re paying, yeah?” he stated, smacking his arm. No, overdoing it.

Steve checked in his pocket, pulling out his wallet. “Still there,” he joked, then slung an arm around Turk’s shoulders. “I want you to come meet a friend of mine, Catherine Rollins. She’s in Navy intelligence. Don’t worry, I told her you’re in private security…”

\-------

“All right, so the kidlet is in bed and I’m drinking all your booze. Sorry.” Not that he felt that sorry. He knew Basher’s type and he’d make it up to him in spades, a whole case even. Turk slumped down at the table across from the other man, taking a healthy gulp from the bottle before he set it down carefully, mindful of Grace sleeping in the next room.

“No, you’re not,” Basher stated, echoing Turk’s thoughts, rolling his eyes. “Though I doubt my fine taste in alcohol was the reason for the visit.”

Turk snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “You’ve always been one of the most perceptive people on the team,” he said, trying to butter him up. From the blank look he got, Basher wasn’t buying it. “Okay, look, I want to get out, disappear. This game is no place to raise a kid, I’m tired of the life. Virgil is firmly ignoring my request to help despite every time he’s said he would work better alone, so I came to you. You’re the best I know, Basher, at putting something together.” He held out his hands imploringly.

“For the little one, huh?” Basher tilted his head in the direction of the room Grace slept in. “‘'bout time. For her, I will certainly help.” His kid had several members of the team wrapped around her finger and Turk couldn’t complain if it meant a favor or two. “What are you thinking?”

Turk leaned forward, his expression leaning towards excitement. “How about a cop?”

\-----

Once upon a time, Steve had been a stupid kid with a patriotic song in his heart, a daredevil mentality, a swagger in his step. Then life had taken offense to the vibrancy of his life and casually beat him down over the years until his mid-thirties felt like old age some days. The loss didn’t help, especially not these days when it dogged his every step. A body in North Korea, a body in Hawaii, two men whom he loved, their unseen blood dripping from his fingertips. Those ghosts followed him as he slipped beneath the crime scene tape and into his childhood home, the silence falling heavily on him, so much so that he felt like he had to walk lightly to preserve the quiet, that anything else would violate the sanctity of the place where his father drew his last breath.

Those years and the wear and tear that came with was the reason that he didn’t quite connect the face behind the gun at first as they stood in the garage, Steve’s weapon steadily pointed at the intruder despite the exhaustion tugging at his bones. The same reason why that very face didn’t recognize him at first either.

They stood apart, weapons aimed, shouting for the other to drop it, to leave the crime scene. It was the snarky comment that rolled off the HPD detective’s tongue that made Steve stop and stare, jaw dropping just slightly as suddenly the blond hair and blue eyes snapped into vivid focus, the Jersey accent foreign in that vast familiarity, but something he was willing to overlook. “Turk.” One word, a name that rushed out in a soft breath before he could stop it.

Turk blinked at him twice and then slowly lowered his gun. “Actually, it’s Danny now. Danny Williams. It’s about goddamn time you remembered who I was. I was afraid - “ He stopped himself, then shook his head once. “Well, it’s not right to say.” He slid the gun into the holster on his hip as Steve stood still, gun pointed at the ground, the adrenaline of a possible shootout starting to ebb away and leaving him feeling more exhausted than before.

Turk - no, Danny - had changed too, the cocky streak dimmed in his eyes, replaced by a weary sadness, blond hair slicked back, more mature, the t-shirts and flannel and jeans long gone, replaced by khakis and button downs and ties. But it was still Turk underneath that, an old friend that Steve wondered for years where he’d gone, a question he would still need an answer to, but in that moment, he needed the friend more.

The gun went quickly back into its holster and he crossed the few steps into Danny’s open arms, letting the smaller man hug him tightly while Steve buried his face against his shoulder, fingers gripping the shoulder fabric of his shirt tightly as he blew out a shuddering breath.

“You always seem to show up right when I need you, buddy.

\----

Just as he’d suspected from the glances in the rearview mirror, as soon as the cub ambled out of the den for a perimeter check of the safe house, Mama Bear pounced.

“What are you doing?” The maternal look easily slipped off Doris’s face, revealing the keen secret agent beneath, as Danny sunk down onto the couch, resting his arms along the back while he rest an ankle on his knee. His brow furrowed slightly and his head tilted, followed by a small shake, lips pursing. That only served to make Doris’s scowl deepened and she moved forward to hover over him. “I know who you are.”

Danny met her gaze, tilting his chin up. A sarcastic remark wouldn’t have been unwarranted, but frankly, after everything she’d done and had yet to explain, he wasn’t feeling particularly giving and taking in the moment. “Who I was,” he corrected softly, holding up a hand, “before you decide to use that to your advantage. I’m sure your supersecret databases gave you more than enough to put me away or out of your son’s life, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

That was enough to get her to back off a step, arms crossing over her chest as she still managed to look down her nose at him. “And why is that?”

Danny held up three fingers. “I am one of three, three people who have come into your son’s life and been entirely honest with him, had his back, and worked at chipping away at, not building up his abandonment issues,” he stated calmly, then rose to his feet.

Doris huffed out a soft breath. “So he knows who you are?”

“Well, I stole his wallet multiple times because he invited me out for beers and then conveniently forgot it, so it would be a little awkward if he didn’t,” Danny said, making an embarrassed expression. He leaned forward, clapping his hands together. “I’m going to be blunt. Unlike you, I have a moral code when it comes to people, so I don’t trust you being here in the least. But he is still your son and you haven’t seen him in years, so I’m willing to give this a tentative shot. You don’t screw him over, I don’t call in a few favors to protect him from you. Is that acceptable?”

“What? What’s acceptable?” Steve asked as he stepped back into the house, glancing between his mother and partner. Danny rose to his feet, stretching his arms behind him, smiling cheerily at Steve.

“We were just setting the record straight,” he stated casually, waving to Doris. “She, ah, wants to make sure I’m not here playing you like a violin. Right, Doris?” Danny turned to her, eyebrow arched.

Doris glared at him, then finally shifted her gaze to Steve, expression softening. “That’s exactly it. Just wanted to make sure you had the right people looking out for you, like Turk here.” The name made Danny screw up his nose disapprovingly and bite his tongue as Steve sighed, rolling his eyes upwards towards the ceiling.

“I can already tell this is going to be fun,” he murmured. “Don’t make me separate you two.”

\------

It was almost disappointing to see how a top notch CIA agent like Alexander telegraphed his glee as he saw Steve running down the hallway towards them, shouting for them to stop. The slide of the eyes towards Turk, because he refused to call him Danny or Williams or even Detective because all that work he did towards legitimacy, college and the academy, means fuck all when his name was fake, was a step away from violating his basic human rights when it came to cruel and unusual treatment.

And it wasn’t like he could stop Steve either. “Of course I knew.” Steve’s chin lifted defiantly, staring down at Alexander challengingly. Of course, he wouldn’t be backing down either so Turk was stuck between two battling, immovable forces. Him and his demons, the blood on his hands refusing to wash away. He had a warrant list a mile long, thefts of all colors of the rainbow, but murder is eating him alive on the inside, even if it was for family, and for once, he’s ready to pay that bill.

“Steve, shut up,” Turk said softly. The two men quieted immediately, gaze on him. Turk’s gaze remained on his hands, picking at his cuffs. “He didn’t know. I signed the affidavit, he hired me under false pretenses.” Shrugging, he finally looked at Steve. So sue him, where he was going, he probably wasn’t coming back, so he took a moment to memorize the details of his face, the lips he only kissed once back in the ‘stans, back when they were kids. A lifetime ago. “Just take care of Grace, all right?”

And for the first time, as hands slid under his elbows and tugged him away, Steve standing there helpless behind him, Turk - and Danny - felt his heart shatter in his chest. He turned, trying to find Steve again. “Just promise me you’ll take care of her.” Because for all the fuck ups in his life, the one thing he did right was having those two in his life and the one last reassurance he needed before he made his amends was that they would still have each other.

_“Promise me.”_

\------

Steve could feel the dampness of Turk’s freshly washed hair through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, an arm draped loosely over Steve’s stomach. After a forced trip to the hospital upon Turk’s release from the Colombian jail, rounding up Gracie, and dragging the two to his place to stay, the shower had taken all the energy Turk had left. Steve’s intent had been to sleep on the couch, but he never got the chance.

With Turk using his shoulder for a pillow, he was trapped. Not that there was anything he had to do. The house was locked up, Gracie asleep in Mary’s old room, the lights shut off. Instead, Steve turned his attention to the man beside him. The old plaid shirt made him smile, a callback to the days when Turk had been Turk and not Danny yet, but the smile faded at the sight of the bruising peeking out from between where the hem rode up and the waistband of his jeans. Guards and prisoners alike had worked him over a good one.

And yet he’d still come back. Granted Steve and Five-0 had done whatever was necessary to bring him home this time, but before that, the thief-turned-detective seemed to find a way into Steve’s life where so many others seemed to exit over and over again. He could count on one hand the few who stuck around.

Turk - no, Danny now. Turk who became Danny, filed away at his edges until he could fit into the puzzle that was Steve’s life, trusting him enough to introduce him to the dearest thing in his life, his daughter. He found a reason to stick around.

Steve studied the sleeping face, covered in a colorful array of contusions, and couldn’t hold back the soft smile. Shifting ever so slightly, not wanting to wake him, he lowered his head down enough to press his lips to Danny’s forehead. It didn’t even earn a response but that was all right. There would be time to talk to tomorrow, the day after, the day after that.

They weren’t going anywhere.

\-----

Covered in a few days worth of grit and grime, shirt torn and dress pants wrecked beyond saving, Danny tugged Steve’s hand into his lap and quickly went to work with his recently recovered paperclip, trying to jiggle the tumblers into submission. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Steve looking at him with that heart eyed and goofy grin look of his that he may have been a little fond of, but seemed so out of place in their current situation. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve stated, switching his gaze out to the acres of trees around them, then bumping his arm gently against Danny’s. Danny sighed as the paperclip slipped, gave his partner an irritated look, then started working again. “This just reminds me of the first time I met this guy. Huge pain in my ass, didn’t think much of him then. I don’t know what happened but he kind of grew on me.”

Danny scowled and tugged his wrist closer again. “Remember our agreement? First rule of your thief rehabilitation program is that we don’t talk about it,” he muttered, his voice soft even though there was no one around to hear. “So please kindly shut up and hold still.” Biting his tongue between his teeth, the frown deepening, he kept working until he felt the slide and then the cuff slid loose from around Steve’s wrist.

“And here I was just about to ask what I would get if I did.” Steve bounded up off the log, full of energy and spoiling for a good fight. Danny watched him for a moment before heaving a sigh. One thing never changed and that was Steve and his attraction to dangerous scenarios. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. As his own cuff popped open, his face screwed up. All right, once a thief, still maybe a thief sometimes with a badge. He tucked them into his pocket and tapped Steve’s arm, waving to the trees around them.

“McGarrett? If you find us a way back to fucking civilization, I will buy you a drink. Please.” Despite his annoyance, Danny felt the corners of his mouth turn up in a slight smirk. “And maybe something more later, sweetheart.”

A glint in his eye, Steve flashed him a wide grin and turned him around, giving him a slight push in the direction he’d decided on. “I was wrong. This is better than last time.”


End file.
